I found the time hang heavy with these insipid men and the monotonous scenery, and was not a little glad, when the uniformity of the latter was broken by the luxuriant clump of trees on the island of Assal. The island, which is not large, is said to derive its name from honey (Assal), which is collected in great quantities from the trees on it, as also on those of the islands succeeding. This wild honey is blackish, and leaves in the mouth a bitter taste, derived from the wood, mostly sunt. Honey from trees is generally not so fine and palatable as that found in rocks; accordingly, the honey from the Hejaz, nearly white, and almost crystalized, is even preferable to the Grecian. Tree honey is said generally to have something narcotic in it, but then it must be eaten by spoonfuls, for I have not found it so. There is, indeed, a drink prepared from it, which is certainly intoxicating. The blossoms of the mimosa, blooming nearly throughout the whole year, afford the principal resources of the bees, although there is no want of flowers, which, in conjunction with the tanning-bark of the knot-holes, may contribute to the narcotic qualities of the honey. Those nests, hanging loosely, of a species of wasp, which give only a little honey, and are seen in Taka, do not appear here. The village of Thebidube is next seen on the right shore; it belongs to the great race of the Hassaniës. I was surprised to observe, not far from the village, ruins, clearly the remains of larger buildings than Arabs huts. The place was called Mandjera or Docks, and I learned that the former governor, Kurshid Basha, had founded these extremely convenient docks, owing to the forest being near. They were, however, abandoned by Ahmed Basha, in accordance with the favourite Turkish system—because his predecessor was the founder. Half an hour above, we lay-to at the village of Masgerag el Tair. Masgerag is said to mean the same as “street;” the whole word, therefore, is “Bird Street,”—but we did not see many birds. Here the Sheikh Mohammed of Wadi Shileï came to greet us. The Arabs of this place also call themselves Shileï, from a Sheikh buried here, although they belong to the main stem of the Hassaniës. An Arnaut of Suliman’s shot, in my presence, a hare whilst running; the ball entered in behind, and passed out in front. The Turks consider themselves the best shots in the world, as well as the best riders:—although they can do little when the animal is running and the bird on the wing, on account of their long and heavy guns. Believe it or not, you may hear this boast every day, without being able to convince them to the contrary.